


A Change In Circumstances

by methylviolet10b



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Canon Related, Gen, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-07-26 04:28:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7560115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/methylviolet10b/pseuds/methylviolet10b
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I do not like the new house. Written for JWP #22: "Shine Yer Shoes Guvnor? Take a child’s-eye view of Holmes and/or Watson or their world." I chose a very particular child from canon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Change In Circumstances

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Assumes knowledge of a canon case (see notes at the end of the story). And absolutely no beta. This was written in a complete rush. You have been warned.

I do not like the new house, in the new country. Our old home knew the sun, and I could play outdoors. This new place is grey and cold, and I must stay inside.  
  
I do not like the new clothes I must wear, either. Being covered up all over makes sense in the chill, but it is not comfortable.  
  
I do not like the look I see sometimes in Mother’s eyes. She is so happy to be with me; rains hugs and kisses on me, sings to me, plays with me every time I see her. But she is sad, too, and scared. I do not want her to be scared.  
  
I do not like the commotion I hear, the yelling. My Mother’s voice sounds afraid. I do not know what to do, so I sit silent and still in my chair as my nanny has taught me to do, when I must be a good, quiet girl.  
  
I do not know the men who come in with Mother. The tall one looks startled. The moustached one looks confused. And the youngest-looking one, the one Mother holds by one arm, stares at me as if he does not know what to think.  
  
The tall one takes away my stiff face covering with gentle fingers. The moustached one smiles when I smile, and laughs, a friendly, warm laugh that makes me smile even more. It makes the tall man smile, too.  
  
My Mother talks, her voice trembling. She talks of Father, whom I barely remember, and of Nanny, and of my old home.  
  
The young-looking man does not laugh. He does not smile. He stares. He looks.  
  
He picks me up in his arms and holds me, as Mother sometimes does. As I think Father must have done. Mother smiles, and laughs, and cries, and hugs us both, the man and me. He hugs Mother, and he hugs me, all alike.  
  
Perhaps this new place will not be so bad after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: The child narrating this story is Lucy Hebron, from [The Adventure of the Yellow Face](https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/The_Yellow_Face).
> 
> Originally posted July 22, 2016


End file.
